Cruel And Unusual Punishment

 

The election took its toll on my mental health.

Trump?? Really?

Somebody wake me up, there must be a mistake.

Maybe if we give him back his TV show he'll resign. And to add insult to injury, who does Elon Musk think he is in this whole scenario? I read today he calls himself "The Best Buddy." That's also worrisome to me. The whole thing is worrisome to me. I wish I were wrong about both (or either) of them but unfortunately I don't think I am.

And Matt Gaetz? May as well pardon and appoint P Diddy for the job. I'm thinking MTG will be tapped for Secretary of Offense.

Am I the only person who remembers him saying (touting) if he won the election the Ukraine/Russian war would be over the first day? Well he's had almost two weeks and guess what? It's not over. Kinda like that wall he was going to build in 2020 with Mexico footing the bill. 

Seems like Felon47 suffers from Sometimers. That's not good either...for any of us.

For the life of me I can't wrap my head around the fact that number one he isn't already in jail. And number two now he is poised to be in the position to pardon the worst of the worst and once again dodge his own culpability in literally dozens of cases where he has been found guilty time after time after time.

I'll be honest with you. I'd rather pay more for eggs and gas than to have him in control of this country for four more years. I'd rather walk and raise my own chickens if need be.

And let's legislate some laws pertaining to what he can and cannot do with his own swinging Richard for starters.

Women have been dealt a tremendous slap in the face by mostly politicians who don't even have a uterus and apparently have even fewer balls to stand up for women's rights.

My husband tells me to quit all my worrying and just let it play out. He said "God's watching and He knows."

I need The Big Guy on speed dial. I'm texting all the prayers I can through the virtual number I have for Him.

PearlyGates911

I am hoping upon hope that my husband is right. What worries me most is that elected presidents aren't the ones in real control. The filthy rich/corporations/conglomerates, all who's money get them there will pull most all the strings, all of the time. It's not a presidency anymore, it's a puppetry.

And boy oh boy have we elected one doozy of a puppet this time. I realize all politicians have their own agendas and aspirations but with no campaign reform and unchecked balance of powers, we the people are just a casualty of whatever they are paid to do and say and vote for or against.

What a sad state of affairs, for all of us, and our children and our grandchildren.

Do I think Kamala was the best choice of all people as a candidate? No, but she hands down was 100% better than the alternative parties choice. He is a monster. He is a convicted sexual assailant and a thirty four time convicted felon, not to mention a con man and racist.

Yet the majority of America voted this ass wipe into office...again. 

My message to all those voters?

Be careful what You ask for. Mark my words.

Here's my barometer. Even Jimmy Carter didn't vote for him. His own former vice president didn't even endorse him or pretty much anyone in his former cabinet.

I'm thinking they know a lot more about him than we do, and I'm following their lead.

Now we have Musk jumping all around behind the orange pie hole because now he's going to even increase his government contracts through SpaceX and StarLink. Do you really think Elon gives a rats ass about any of us Americans?

And seems to me like not too long ago the orange pie hole was bashing all electric vehicles and demanding we go back to the Flintstone years of raping the planet for fossil fuel instead of moving forward with a more conscientious and environmentally friendly source of solar and wind power. Sustainable and absolutely unlimited.

Now all of the sudden Musk is his right hand man. (stroking pun totally intended)

If he gives MTG a cabinet position I might just stroke out myself.

I am not sure if I (or this country) can take four more years of this orange clown but I do know that by the end of this term he will not be remembered in a favorable light.

Mark my words.

He doesn't care about me or you. He doesn't care about education or climate change or women's rights or even the rights of native Americans or immigrants simply trying to do what we all did, come to this country for a better life. And don't get me started on African Americans or people who have the audacity to love who they want to love and not be questioned or targeted for it.

I have lost more than a few people from my life over the orange one via social media, text or face to face interaction. That's okay too. At least I know now where they stand and they know the same about me. I don't need or want friends who support a vile and venomous and totally despicable excuse for a human being. Are you really more worried about the almighty dollar over the sense of doing what's decent and right for everyone? He is going to do nothing for ones hurting the most, who need it the most.

That's selfish if you ask me.  And I remember what my husband told me..."God is watching."

But that's just me, and I like being me.

Till next time, COTTON

Socks In November...In Orlando?!

 While I like a break from the heat, I don't appreciate suddenly having to wear socks. That wasn't what I signed up for when I moved to Florida. I'm a flip flops gal, not a slides gal. Socks are okay with slides, flip flops not so much. I do have a pair of slides my daughter bought me a while back and have them out and into the current rotation.  It's like there's no norm anymore here in central Florida...or the rest of the country for that matter. 

It's like the orange pie hole's new administration picks and appointees are all climbing out of the same clown car. 

And people wonder about Biden's lucidity? At least Biden (finally) had the good grace to step aside, albeit too late. Sore point with me but hindsight is always 20/20. 

Number one I'm not a big fan of any politician. They all have ulterior motives... until a single one of them convinces me otherwise and I don't expect that to be happening anytime soon.

It's a crisp cool snap here in the House of Mouse Town. Me no like. Cooler temps for me now are 70 in the wake up hour and the mid 70's around noon. It doesn't help the sun goes down at fiveish and begins to wane around three. Criminal activity on Maw Naytch's part if you ask me, and who do I need to speak to about it?

I'm (not really) serious when I say it feels like a therapist conspiracy. Make bright sunlight over by three, dark starting around four and by five thirty you're huddled in a dark room wondering where your day went?

It almost makes me wish I had a therapist to consult. Instead I gripe to my dog. She's an excellent listener and her prices are hard to beat.

At least she looks  like she's listening to me. She always has a look on her face like "Then what did they say, and can you believe their audacity?"

That's my team! If you have four paws on your team you are golden.

I haven't worn a long sleeve shirt since late January. Or socks. Or long pants.

"Woe is me" may not be the right way to go, but after living here almost eight years I have a certain understanding with the weather. It's either really pleasant, or a hurricane is on the way.

I give Maw Naytch maybe ten rouge days a year to show out and catch us off guard. But unless a hurricane or tropical storm disrupts our meteorologists paradise, I'm in it to win it. Sunshine, tolerable temps all twelve months and my azaleas bloom year round. What more could a woman want at this point in life?

Love where you are planted.

I only wish my sister was planted closer to me now but unfortunately she isn't. That's okay. Love is unstoppable, unbreakable, not measured by miles and always constant.

Once again I am a lucky lucky woman...even if I have to wear socks for a day or two. And puffy vests are my friend as well. Gotta leave those arms exposed for hot flashes.

Till next time, COTTON

Climate Spoiled

 

I was born in 1960 (yikes I'm old) and grew up in East Point, Georgia.  A small city, yet literally a ten minute drive from downtown Atlanta. It was home to the Atlanta airport and home to me. After I got married in 1990 we moved to the suburbs to raise youngsters in a little more rural area. Coweta County was twenty five minutes south of the airport and a pretty great place to raise kiddos. After almost twenty five years there, my husband got transferred to Orlando with his job. We moved down in the fall and the day before Christmas my daughter and I scooted over to Cocoa Beach, a thirty minute drive from the house. We stayed on the beach maybe three hours and came home sunburned like we had spent the day in Equador.

I'm not a fan of cold weather so I was pumped to be living in central Florida and less than an hour from the coast.

I quickly became a temp snob. A woman can get away with comfortably wearing a sports bra or tank top, shorts and flip flops pretty much year round with a few cold (coolish) snaps thrown in about ten days a year. I was listening to the radio this morning when the DJ said, tomorrow will be cold when you wake up with a predicted low of sixty seven.

Oh my!!

Just wait, it gets worse. On the noon newscast it was reported some areas may drop into the fifties tomorrow in the morning during wake up hours.

CANCEL SCHOOL!!!!  Go buy all the firewood they have stacked out front of Publix and  make some chili for dinner.

Trust me. People will have on full winter gear, complete with fur lined Uggs and parkas, also with fur lined hoods. All dogs will have their little sweaters on as well when being walked by their owners in the frigid conditions.

Here's the thing about Florida. Rain doesn't bother or deter anyone from doing anything or going anywhere. Unless a hurricane is predicted to be a direct hit as a Cat four, it's just another reason for a party. We don't sell out of milk and bread, we sell out of Fireball, wine and Tequila.

I will also admit my dogs quickly got spoiled as well. In Georgia it would be in the teens for days on end and the dogs had no problem about tromping around the yards. Once we moved here and temps would dip below seventy, they would go out, do their business and be barking at the door in three minutes to get back inside. Let me point out they all wear a head to tail fur coat 24/7.

I did downsize my winter wardrobe. I gave away all but one coat. My Harley Davidson jacket. I have had it since 1980 and fits my Masters of the Universe Skeletor body like a glove.

 I kept two vests. One puffy and one fake lambskin. I have a couple of long sweaters which are mid calf length and one knitted winter hat. The only gloves I own are for gardening, and don't even wear them. They make my hands hot.

Any woman...and I mean any woman who has been through or going through menopause is all about keeping it cool. I would have never survived Florida before A/C and ceiling fans when I was raging through menopause. It still creeps up on me from time to time but nothing like it did a few years ago.

But when it does come a calling, all blankets, covers and sheets and socks and sport bras come off. I don't care if it's twenty below outside.

Then five minutes later you are putting the socks back on and climbing back underneath the sheets and blanket...for another thirty minutes. Rinse and repeat...it's the hot flash mantra.

That Eve really did a number on us, didn't she? And all over an apple (and a man).  Go figure.

Of course this is all in jest. (kinda)

I love living here. Even when it dips into the fifties from time to time. We found the perfect spot to live but the one and only bad thing about it is that my sister is still in Georgia.

 

This pic is from when we had dinner together right before we moved to Florida. I miss her every day and all the time.

It's been a learning curve for us both. We've never lived more than twenty miles from each other. But as Glennon Doyle has taught me, we can do hard things. We will survive.

Our country? That's another sitch altogether and worries me greatly.

The one single and only good take away from this recent election is that Florida will be rid of the orange abyss of a pie hole, Matt Gaetz (charged with underage sex trafficking) Marco-Polo flim flam Rubio and Rick Scott who committed major fraud concerning Medicaid and Medicare. Thanks for cleaning up our part of the swamp for at least four years. Maybe we need to put up a border preventing all of them access to return to the Sunshine State. Maybe you can find a cabinet position for Ron DeSantis up there too.

To everyone who voted this ass hat into office... be careful what you ask for. Trust me, he's just getting started and it isn't going to be pretty. 

Things are heating up for sure. 

Climate change is taking on a whole new meaning. It's going to be a long four years and it's going to get ugly.

I'm Beyond Tore Slap Up

 

'Tore slap up' is southern speak at its finest. Kinda like 'Fixing to' ... 'Bless her heart' and 'Mama and nem.'  (meaning everyone)

I have been having some serious issues with all things social media related lately. My God...people are seemingly out of their minds.

If it is posted on Facebook or X or IG or any other stupid social page it's taken as fact. Most social media is anything but true or fact.

Once the election got heated I should have simply stepped away from it but it quickly turned into a dumpster fire of a train wreck and I just couldn't look away. It was borderline mind boggling. How and why do people believe any thing that comes out of his orange pie hole?

I have faith in this nation, we just need to take it back from the NRA, big business and deep pockets doling money out to politicians like candy on Halloween.

Can we survive four more years of him? I certainly hope so, I just wish we didn't have to. The idiot is a hero to many in our neighborhood. They have his face on the American flag (yikes) and one guy is even flying a huge banner from his porch which reads "Jesus is my Savior and Trump is my president."  He'd better count on his first choice more than his second one, that's for sure. I can just imagine God Upstairs, rolling his eyes at all the shenanigans that 215(not)lb con man is getting away with. Time after time after time. Thirty four times to be exact...so far.

I am going to have to reset my mind set. It's not healthy for my mental well being which lately has been hanging on by a bare thread. I refuse to let the orange one get into my head and muck up my mojo. He's not worth it.

I am also going to stand up for my beliefs in the neighborhood where we live. My daughter, who is also on Substack, wrote a very eloquent and spot on post about being neighborly. Look her up, Massey Cotton. She's a pretty sharp chickadee if I may say so myself. Beautiful inside and out, with a heart as wide as the oceans.

She and I offered to help last year with the Halloween party for all the kids at our community park within our neighborhood last year. Members on the neighborhood Hatebook page complained that the same people helped with every party and was time for others to step up...so we did. It was our first time helping and help we did! My sister was in town visiting from Georgia so she and I, along with Massey and her brother who moved here a couple of years ago all went to help set up. My husband even went and filled our huge hurricane cooler with  six  bags of ice for them to use and dropped it off at the park. Our newer neighbor from two doors down signed up as well and it was a banging good time. For the kiddos and adults as well.

This year Halloween rolled around and we were asked to help once again, so we did. Zachary (my son) had to work and so did my husband but Massey and I did it all over again, along with our neighbor and we did a great job decorating. While putting the empty plastic bins back into the storage shed after using all the decorations we came across a twenty foot long ghoul that had been stored for years and years and wasn't in the greatest shape but decided if we hung it high enough up it would look great and you'd never notice how old or falling apart it was. Massey and the guy running the event (a member of the board) took it to the front of the park entrance to nail it high up in a tree by the gate. There wasn't a great locale for it so Massey suggested they run it up the flagpole by the boat launch at the dock right past the pavilion we decorated for the party, including about twelve picnic tables, a huge grill pit, a stage and big wrap around counter for all the food people brought to be shared. We live in a lake community, and after two back to back hurricanes the flag had been taken down so the pole was empty. Great idea! Run Mr. Ghoul up the pole as a welcome to all the littles, who over half of were dressed as ghouls themselves. I took a short video of them running Ghouly up the pole and posted it on the neighborhood page the next day. Tons of likes and the party was a huge success. It felt good to start feeling like a part of the community. Many people out here are second and even third generation families. I don't blame them. We are a hidden gem in Orlando, who's busting at the seams with development and over building, taking more and more of Mother Nature away for the almighty dollar and more revenue. Sad.

So several days go by after the party, which was a huge hit complete with costume contest, tons of good food, music and dancing. Decorated golf carts and candy being given out from each one to all the trick or treaters and adult beverages for us older folk.

So I'm looking through the neighborhood page a few days later and someone (I've never heard of) commented that "I never comment on here but find it offensive the American flag was replaced with a demonic symbol on a flag pole meant to honor all the many service members who live in our neighborhood.

Really?

Kudos to one board member who immediately replied "The flag wasn't up, it has been down since the hurricanes."

I chimed in and said we would have never taken down the American flag to run a Halloween (not demonic) decoration up the pole.

And of course they come right back at me.

"That's not the point. My family donated that pole."

Okay then, you got your pat on the back post out there, thanks for the pole. We love you, you're great! Had I have known it was their pole I would have certainly reached out (privately) to make sure it was okay with them. (eye roll)

My biggest take away was this.

They complained when other people didn't step up and volunteer to help in the community with parties and celebrations. Then when we did volunteer, they still complained. It soured me to a point that we don't want or intend to help with other parties, and they have a lot of them. Next up is the Christmas party, then the Chili cook off in January where you sign up and pay dues for the upcoming year. Which we won't be doing for the first time since moving here. It's a nice park and gives you access to have a key for the gate and can go anytime you want unless it is reserved for a party or event by another neighbor in the hood.

We don't own a boat to take or launch from there and our kids are all grown. I don't foresee them wanting to swing on the  monkey bars or climb the jungle gyms.

I volunteered because I was a part of this neighborhood and the neighborhood asked for new volunteers.

I'm not asking or wanting these people to feel the same way I do or have the same beliefs I have. I was just trying to be neighborly and feel slapped in the face for even trying. It was humiliating and absolutely unnecessary. 

As my daughter so eloquently put it in her Substack:  "I'm not asking you to be my friend or be friendly with me. I'm asking you to be my neighbor and be neighborly to me."

The whole thing jaded me and (unfortunately) am a big grudge holder when you do me wrong, especially when I am only trying to help do the right thing.

Yay!!(not really) 

The majority of our neighbors' favorite won. The ball is in your court. You got what you asked for. 

On the other hand you also asked for other people to help in the hood and we stepped up. Then we got trampled, humiliated and made to look like buffoons who didn't care about respect for the flag.

As much as I enjoyed it, I won't sign up again. We won't join the voluntary association again this January. They have made it evident and make me feel they don't want or need or our $150.00.

How sad is that? How petulant and petty is that?

And who does that remind you of?

I absolutely love living here, glad we landed here but learned that some people out here are so single minded, unable to accept other opinions and feel the need to humiliate and make fun of anyone who doesn't align with their own views.

Once again, who does that remind you of?

Bless their hearts.

It's going to be a long four years.

COTTON

November...Already?

 

Unbelievably this year is literally a few short weeks away from being over. Where has the time gone and more importantly what have we done with it? 

It's been a learning curve for me. Old age and forty plus years of slinging heavy plates and carrying countless bus tubs and huge buckets of ice took their toll on my body. It doesn't help that I'm basically a hundred pound walking saggy bag of bones but think as far as sixty five years goes, I pickled pretty well. (just don't get or look too closely at my face, mustache or goatee and random whiskers)

I look my best from ten feet away, without florescent lighting, and advance notice that you're looking at my face.

True facts at my age.

Resting Bi*ch Face is a real kill joy and is so hard to concentrate on not making sometimes. Unfortunately I have a mirror built into the wall above my kitchen sink. Fortunately it looks great there, and has an actual window frame around it complete with a sill and panes. Makes the entire kitchen look twice as big and I like being able and see all the way down the hallway behind me when I am at the sink. It has helped me with my RBF since every time I look in I need (and take) immediate action to correct my unprovoked grimace.

I'm learning to accept the fact that it is what it is. I'm a senior citizen now. When I was in high school it was all the rage and super cool to finally be a senior.

Now? Not so much.

How in the world did I end up being in the same age group as all my parent's friends? My mother died  just after I turned seventeen. My father died in 2002 from West Nile Virus but I have kept in touch with many of their good friends over the years. There's  not a large number of them left anymore but it's not a shabby number either. I'm going to guess about ten or fifteen. I write to a lot them (snail mail) and call the ones I have numbers for. I can even text the really savvy ones. Yes they tell me the same stories sometimes but I am also a compulsive repeater, especially if it's a funny story. I get it from my mother. My father used to make fun of her for it, and now so do my husband and brother... in their defense I am an easy target but in my defense they both still laugh when I tell them. So at least there's that.

Ya gotta count those blessings!

See what I mean about no florescent lighting and ten feet away? Works like a charm. Every. Time.

Dusk or dim lighting is even better! At my age you need to utilize your strengths, especially if it doesn't include any heavy lifting or walking up a lot of stairs.

 I have one bad knee I twisted in a speed skate for mothers at the skating rink in the early 2000's when my kids were little...and yes I came in second.

Kinda ticked me off because at first they announced it was only a speed skate for mothers and I went out there (pushed by my kids) but eventually followed by one other mom.. Then the guy on skates with whistle and referee shirt on says into the microphone "Or fourteen and up!!"

Are you kidding me? Of course a young girl won but I was hot on her trail. Not too shabby for a middle aged woman.

This was at a skate night for their elementary school. I was still waiting tables at night and on weekends but had taken a job in the cafeteria of their school so they could remain there when a huge county redistricting happened and they wanted my kids to attend a school further away.

We were on the starting line and I could hear kids screaming "GO Lunch Lady!!" So I did.

I still have a bad knee to prove it. But that's okay, I have another knee that is just fine. A year or two ago I was raking clippings out of our shrubbery as my daughter trimmed them with the electric hedger. I slung the rake over the hedge the wrong way and my shoulder literally audibly popped so loud even my daughter heard it. It hurt so bad it made me immediately nauseous. It still goes in and out and makes me wince when it does, sometimes making me want to scream. Kudos for me though, I still have another perfectly good shoulder and is located on the other side of my body from my bad knee so I'm basically batting .500 at the tender age of fifty fifteen.

It's all about perspective at this point. At least that's my take. 

We only have one dog now after losing my precious Ziggy last year but my brother still has two. I am the official Mon-Fri dog watcher for both houses, all three hounds, and couldn't have or want a better job. I scooter (my brother bought me the scooter for Christmas last year and love it) from our house to his at least a couple of times a day to let his dogs out and spend most of my day in our yards with our pup. I highly suggest hanging around dogs more than humans.

Love is a four legged word...that's for sure.

This little 55 lb. girl has us all wrapped around her front paw, which looks like black velvet but can rip my old lady skin back or up with one glance.  I've used more band aids since I turned sixty than I have my entire life.  My brother has two dobermans so that's even more hazardous to my old lady skin. Luckily they are older and not the clown that our boxer is. She's one hot mess.

My brother adopted a Dobie a couple of years ago that was an escaper. I don't know why she tried to escape, he treats his dogs better than I treat my own kids. If I was one of his dogs I would be attached to his hip. Post Note: she has since done exactly that.

But before that she was horrible.  She would wiggle, dig under around or between any compromise in the fence. Granted it was an older fence but we were all worried she would get hit by a car. He finally paid well over ten grand to have a new fence installed all around his house and property.

While the fence was being installed I had to walk both Dobies on a leash. His older girl, Robin wouldn't leave the yard if the gate was left wide open and you called to her from the street. She knew which side of the fence was buttered.

Not Shelby. I was walking her one day in the yard with a leash on so she couldn't escape when one of our neighbors had the audacity to walk their own dog by my brother's house...on a leash none the less.

Shelby went ape sh*t crazy and ran circles around me (I had her on an extendable leash) essentially hog tying me and dragging me by my ankles up the gravel driveway. My neighbor looked horrified and asked if I was okay. I gave him a thumbs up and was glad we had more than that ten foot buffer because I was bleeding like a stuck pig. I still have scars on my ankles.

The next time the ole heifer got me was when I once again had her on the leash about a week later while the fence was still being installed. I was by some pine trees and a squirrel darted up one by us. Shelby took off around the tree, dragging my arm holding the leash with her. Raked back about a three inch slice of skin off my forearm and had to pick pine bark out of the cut before I washed it in my brothers sink, pushed my skin back the right way and wrapped my arm in paper towels before I could even begin to search my brother's house  for bandages.

Shelby was a lot, but has turned out to be a perfect dog. Just took her a year or so and over ten thousand dollars worth of new fencing.

I can say I never ever took her out on a long extendable leash again. Four feet was all Smalls/Shelby got after that.

She's turned out to be a love bug and my brother has since adopted another Dobie after his other girl Robin passed away.

Now he has Shelby and Warlock. Warlock is a blue doberman. Absolutely stunning pup.

This is what a blue Dobie looks like:

Warlock (sorry I don't have a pic of him) has the floppy ears like the one on the left and the exact some coloring. I have never seen a dog more happy and complacent to be rescued and loved. Nothing bothers this dog, except squirrels and birds. He also knows what side of the fence is buttered and has no desire to leave or get out of the yard. He runs the fence line with his head up high, looking for birds and squirrels in the trees. How he doesn't have a massive crick in his neck is a mystery to me. He is obsessed and relentless. Luckily the squirrels and birds have (so far) been quicker. I'm hoping I am not on duty the day he finds a slow one. Dobermans aren't quitters by any stretch of the canine imagination. 

I suppose where all this written drivel is leading is that I am still a pretty lucky person, regardless of how I think (know) I look or sometimes feel. At least I'm still kicking...granted not too high (don't want to pull a hamstring) and will never be a Rockette or in  Riverdance but at least I can get out of bed every day, go about my business and not feel pressured to do something I don't want to do or clock in at a job and have to follow rules and guidelines while other coworkers skirt them on the daily. 

Trust me, we all worked with that person. Every job has one. (or two or three)

So I'm going out on a limb here and saying I've done okay in life. I have been blessed, beyond blessed and then some. 

I haven't changed the world by any means but feel that I have made a (probably insignificant but well meaning) positive difference at best. 

That's all I have ever wanted to do or be. A good person.

Have I failed at times? Absolutely. Who hasn't?

With the new year rapidly approaching my mind is spinning. This latest election in the USA has proven (once again) that politics are not topics to be discussed or expressed anywhere except behind the (now proverbial) curtain in a polling booth. Our parents called that one right. I wish we would have listened.

It's turned into a flat out hate fest. It turned into a mudslinging of misinformation and the only ones benefiting are the puppeteers pulling political strings with their deep pockets and more often than not taking our hard earned money and using it for their own agenda and profit. And I am absolutely talking about both sides of the swamp. It's called a swamp for a reason, there is an extremely muddy and mucked up bank on either side and all around it.

Let's dial it back (especially on social media) to keeping political opinions to ourselves. Has that been hard for me? Extremely. I am not a fan of our newly elected president, but it is what it is. He won.

We shall see what we shall see.

Don't cry over spilled milk. Just be careful next time you pour a glass.

 Till next time...COTTON

Talk About A Gut Punch

 

I am stunned. I am in disbelief. We elected a  thirty four time convicted felon for our president. Someone please tell me how that makes sense, especially considering he was also found guilty of sexual assault with a huge financial verdict awarded?

I am walking around in a daze, if I get out of bed at all. You may think I'm kidding but that first morning after the election I was literally sick to my stomach. The things I've seen and heard him say (on a live feed) boggles my mind. I haven't cooked nor offered to. I just sit and stare off into space wondering how we got here. The rest of my family all know I am in a huge, huge funk but also know how I wear my heart on my sleeve and how committed I am to my principals and beliefs.

Of course he'll tell people anything! He's always been that way, but trust me he has "The Donald's" best and only interest at heart. Every. Time.

It is what it is. There is nothing I can do about it now.

My worst fear is that he will get sworn into office and pardon not only all the rioters from Jan.6  but somehow finagle and pardon himself from his own 34 count felony convictions. Not thirty four charges, thirty four convictions.

Where's the justice in that? 

And let's talk about Elon Musk (richest man in America) who also owns the mega huge social network X buying himself a president for the paltry sum of $100,000,000.  Not to mention the NRA and all other global giant conglomerates holding us hostage with their inflated prices, while they post record setting earnings.

Who's zooming who? 

It will take me a few days to process all the hate Trump has brought to this country's table and spewed amongst the  forefront of our society not to mention the political arena. He's made bullying and making fun of people an okay thing to do...and his followers/haters jumped right on board and even offered to drive the train and blow the horn, while waving the Rebel/ Trump flags while crashing through the windows of the nation's capitol like a barbaric mob and storming down the halls.

For my own sanity I have decided to disengage myself from Facebook. I would delete the app totally if not for local and neighborhood pages who post lost pets and available rescues. Recipes and garden tips I can find on my own.

Sanity will take some work.

A lot of the  people I grew up with and even some of the people I've met since, just don't share the same views that I do.

Number one: Immigration?

Hello...we are all immigrants unless we are of Native American descent. And yes this is a great country  (although has been historically proven we stole and raped them and their land) but if I was living in squalor with my children in Mexico or Venezuela, Ukraine, Gaza etc... and wanted to give them a better chance at a better life, you bet your bippy I would find some razor wire to throw a jacket or blanket over and simply just get them to the other side of the border for the chance at a decent and better life. When you have small babies and children you don't have years and years to wait for official documents or documentation, not when their life is on the line along with your own.

Love your neighbor.

Go ahead and get rid of and ship back all migrant workers and see how much of our food gets picked and harvested for pennies on the dollar. I bet Americans will be lining up for those jobs like it's a Taylor Swift concert. (extreme sarcasm intended)

And women's rights to medical access and care? 

There isn't one single male president, governor or politician on this earth who should have any (and let me repeat that) ANY  opinion, input or authority to legislate what a female does with her own body.

At least not until they legislate what a male can or cannot do with his ding dong. (just trying to keep it light although is a heavy subject on my heart)

And who cares who someone else wants to love? Since when is that a crime (or any of your business)?

We are worrying about the wrong things, we are electing the wrong people and we are letting big politics and even bigger business and gigantic conglomerates rule us, and laugh behind our backs as they hold us hostage all the way to the bank. Us having to withdraw our money to simply survive while they deposit billions into their own accounts and reap record profits.

I'm no brain surgeon but it seems pretty simple to me.

Love and let Love. 

And my last gripe of the day is this whole Daylight Savings.

My candidate lost, my immediate concerns and values are on the line. I am worried for my own daughter and grand daughter's future...and then you wanna make it start to get dark at four thirty in the afternoon?

I'm thinking this is maybe a ploy by therapists, psychologists and even psychiatrists to make me want and make an appointment...  because I'm feeling like I need to talk to someone...and although my dog is a good listener, it bothers me when I get to a crucial part in my rant and she's just licking her cooter like it's hers to claim.

 

Till next time...COTTON

  

Old School Meets New School

 I started waiting tables after college at Red Lobster in 1980. We were called waitresses then and wore poorly polished white shoes from the cheapest store we could find. And don't even get me started on that blue polyester sailor suit dress. But it was a good start and training was actually pretty rigorous. Over my forty plus year career I worked for nine different places, always advancing for the better. Red Lobster, Steak & Ale, WD Crowley's Scotch House, U Zoo (not my finest moment), Johnny's, LongHorn, Mama Lucia's, Ecco and finally Chroma.

I was so bummed out today about the election results. A convicted felon as president? It just made no sense to me. My daughter got home from work early, around one thirty and rescued me from my dazed and confused state of depression. 

We got in the car and drove to our favorite Mexican place and ordered two big margaritas. We had appetizers and ate a meal, all the while being served by one of the sweetest, most attentive and engaging servers I've had in quite some time. Shout out to Valerie!! You earned every penny of your handsome tip. I left wishing I had left you even more.

She was the epitome of a good server. Engaging, well groomed, knowledgeable and present whenever needed, sometimes even before. We made a comment while chatting that made her ask if we worked in the service industry. (she's a sharp cookie)

We hijacked her while it was slow in the restaurant and traded war stories. Many of the same complaints and many of the same circumstances and concerns.

Service industry folk are a dysfunctional dynamic of work family and can be at each others throat one minute and have that same person's back five minutes later. Serving is a Love/Hate job. You either make the job your own, a profession, and control it to work out to your benefit or come in every shift hating your job which will always be reflected in your tips (aka) salary.

My last forty hour serving job netted me around $70k and came with full benefits. I was one lucky waitress. I worked hard for it. I showed up every day on time if not early. My uniform and apron were always clean and pressed and my personal appearance was clean, neat and professional. If you want to make big bucks, dress and act like you deserve them.

I remember other servers I worked with through the decades who constantly complained about how little they were making on any given shift. My thought process was the opposite. If I wasn't making good money, I needed to be a better server.

I always knew every special or menu item . I knew how everything was prepared or where it came from. I knew the ingredients and I knew the wines or liqueurs to suggest to go with them. 

I knew when they needed that extra cup of ice or that drink or water refill. I knew when they needed more napkins, condiments or a box to go. I knew to keep the table neat and clean and the conversation flowing, unless they weren't big talkers. Then I would silently take care of their every need or want without them ever having to ask for either. It's a psychological job, being a server. It's a study of the masses.

People go out to eat, sometimes (especially these days) dreading the amount money they are about to drop, then an excellent server will come to your table and give such good service that they leave looking forward to the next visit and most probably will ask for you.

It's a win/win.

It's a great profession if you commit to getting it right and always go the extra mile without having to be asked.

Today we had that server. Valerie. 

It was a tough day for me. It was a tough day for millions of others. After having such a pleasant experience with our server though, it uplifted my spirits, which in turn uplifted her gratuity.

We will call every time we want to go there now just to make sure she is working. If she isn't we'll go another time when she is.

Four years isn't a lifetime but can be. You simply never know. Your next breath could be your last.

I'm hoping democracy and checks and balances prevail and we'll get through this time with fewer scrapes and bumps than I'm thinking we will have to experience.

You simply never know...do you?

Till next time...COTTON